I slept reasonably well up until four o’clock then had
something of a dilemma. Did I lay in bed for a few more hours desperately
needing the loo. Or should I get up and surrender all the bed space to the
dogs.
I got up, did what I had to do, and managed to get
back onto the bed
I dozed on and off until half past seven.
I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet as
I do. This morning I was inundated with adverts for pressure filters for fish
ponds. Having looked at one yesterday had clearly given the algorithms
something to play with.
With nothing much else happening on-line I looked at
the monthly accounts. I really could do with having far more money; is that
greedy of me?
I took the dogs out. As we drove the pundits on the
radio were continuing the article I was listening to last week about the hacker
who’d tried to blackmail thousands of people. There was an
interview with the chap this morning. He denied all responsibility and said
that someone else did it; someone he knew but he wouldn’t say who it was. The
chap clearly had no remorse for what he had done… and I suspect it won’t be
that long before he’s out of prison.
We got to the wood where we walked a different route
to our usual one. A marginally less muddy one. Though only marginally. We still
got grubby. As we walked we saw the bluebells are starting to come up. And we
met a few of the normal people with dogs on those ridiculously long leads. Some
people must love untying knots.
As we drove out of the car park so the car in front of
us had their dog’s lead hanging out of the door. Had it caught in anything it
would have snapped the poor dog’s neck. I followed that car flashing my lights
and eventually got them to stop. I had to repeat that the dog’s lead was
hanging out four times before the woman actually looked out of the driver’s
window to see what the issue was… and then she screamed about what might have
happened.
We came home to see loads of people milling round the
church up the road; all in black. And as I tried to drive down the road I had
to slam on the brakes as some idiot old woman (also all in black and
carrying a wreath) blundered into the middle of the road and just stood
there. Eventually another funeral-goer came and tried to lead her away, but she
didn’t want to go, and was having nothing to do with being told that she
couldn’t stand in the middle of the road.
I gave the dogs a bath. Fortunately there was no fox
poo to wash off today; only dried mud. I made us both a cuppa, Munzed, and
Wordled from “being” through “breed”, “blare” and “bores”
to “buyer”. Then I had a pootle in the garden.
I had a go with the battery powered pressure washer.
Sadly that thing is on the crap side and I soon gave up with it. I couldn’t be
arsed to get the proper one out, so instead I got the bionic burner out and had
a go at the weeds coming through the patio.
I then had a look at the morning’s post and was
disappointed. What I had hoped was written permission for my next geo-project
was actually a bill for the thick end of two hundred quid for our recent boiler
overhaul. I played around with ChatGPT, looked at a possible walk for tomorrow,
and made myself a sandwich.
I then did my usual trick of watching episodes of “Four
In A Bed”. Today’s were rather good; the contestants didn’t take long to
hate each other.
One of the places competing was a pub in Edenbridge
where last year we had a geo-meet. It was run by a rather vindictive chap who
penalised a competitor by fifteen quid for trivia, and then had the right hump
when that same one penalised him a measly three quid for quite serious
failings, and he wasn’t at all happy that another marked him down for letting
out a room with a broken bed. He *really* didn’t thank that a broken bed
was a valid reason for underpaying.
Despite not having had the letter of permission that
I’d been hoping for, I then spent a little while preparing the geocaching event
page for the event (in the hope that permission would be forthcoming).
“er indoors TM” boiled
up a very good chili which we scoffed whilst watching the last two episodes of “The
Traitors: Ireland”. The show does
make me laugh sometimes… one girl was accused of being a traitor because she
hadn’t been voted out. I said she hadn’t been voted out because of the most
entertaining way in which she brandished her chest.
Who was right… let’s just say she wasn’t a traitor but
might as well have turned up in the nip for all that her so-called clothing
kept secret…
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